Peril at Pier Nineteen

Peral at Pier 19. California and I had surely enjoyed our few days in San Francisco and we're looking forward to our last night before heading back for the Bar of 20. Our job of overseeing a shipment of the Bar of 20's best breeding stock was finished that day when we saw it loaded aboard the cattle boat Pacific Queen.

Now all we had to do was return to the boat to collect the money for the cattle from Mr. Caldwell, the Australian rancher. We're just starting to get dark as we walked along the pier toward the Pacific Queen.

That crunch on the fog's starting to roll in again, Hoppy. We better hurry up or we won't never find our way back to the bright light. You just take it easy, California. We got the whole night ahead of it.

Yeah, that's just it. I want to make the most of it. Say, this fresh goer's quite a town, either. Yeah, it sure is. I guess it's got just about everything. I wouldn't give you two cents for all this water though. I don't see how them sailors stand.

Well, I suppose they don't see how we stand ranch live. Well, maybe you're right, but as far as I'm concerned, that ocean business is strictly for the fish. Just give me dry land. Well, maybe you better wait here then. When I go aboard the old cub and get the money, I wouldn't want you getting seasick.

Oh, shut up, you long. Don't get any further away than this from the doctor. I don't mind. I'll get on up that gangplank then. I'll bet old man called well in his daughter and that wing right fella it'll be glad enough to get off this thing and finally get back to Australia.